Page 42 of Pushed
Machi stood up, bending over me to greet the man. “Steven, I wouldn't miss this for anything.”
“Good, you shouldn't. I want to say I'm impressed, most of us could never do what you did.” Steven's feet pushed in further, almost stepping completely on my thigh. But I didn't move, I stayed still, doing my best to bite my tongue. “The trouble you ran into, I'm sorry you had to deal with that.”
Sitting back down, Machi began running his fingers through my hair. The gentle touch tickled my scalp, sending a shiver down my spine. It was soothing, causing my lids to close slightly and calming my nerves.
Having him touch me seemed to be his way of speaking to me when words weren't allowed. His hands spoke with reassurance, telling me everything was all right. Every twirl of hair and rake through the strands let me know it was going to be okay. . . But only if I did as I was told.
Angling my head closer to his lap, he continued to massage my scalp, digging his fingertips into my hair. “No, don't be, he got what he deserved. There's no room here for loose ends, I've always thought it was better to have a tight knot.”
Chuckling, the man with shiny shoes stepped back and began walking away. “I'm sure Sylvan feels the same, which is why you're still here with us.”
“I need to talk to him myself, I think he'd understand the situation better if he heard it from my own mouth, in my words, not Ethan's.”
“Yes, well, we all know that takes time.” His voice drifted off as he walked to his seat, followed by the light slap of heels.
Glancing under the table, my fingers twined together as I noticed more and more feet. There were several chairs with girls sitting beside them. Some were perched on their knees on the bare floor, a few others had small pillows to use, while the select few were cradled on the lap of a man.
How can there be so many?
Why do they stay?
Machi's fingers continued to comb through my hair, each stroke was soft and tender as he played with the long locks, spinning them around his fingers and letting them fall free. He was talking to people I couldn't see, whose voices I didn't recognize, whose faces remained invisible to my eyes.
Fuck, I wish I could see.
The girls on the floor all kept their heads dipped into their chests, not moving a muscle. The tops of the toes that dangled under the table wiggled and bounced like children on the lap of a parent.
A part of me was sickened by all the women who rested at the side of a man, while a small part of me twinged with jealousy over the girls who were allowed to be at the same level as the men they were with.
Who are those girls? Why do they get special treatment?
Taking in a deep breath, the savory scents of the room engulfed my body, drawing out the starvation my brain hadn't allowed me to feel before. The adrenaline had slowed down as time went on, giving room for my body to settle.
My stomach gurgled and I cupped my belly, trying to silence the growing hunger. I was hoping that I was the only one that heard the sounds. I didn't want my talking stomach to be mistaken as my voice.
Machi didn't seem to hear my belly growl, he kept chatting with people around the table, all while touching me delicately in some way. His hands worked over my shoulders, stroking my back, his fingers gripped the sides of my neck, massaging the muscle.
I'm starving, when do I get to eat?
“So, Machi, when should we expect the new arrivals? I mean, since the last two seemed to slip through the cracks and all.”
“Well, right now I have a few girls being tailed on the east side. Hopefully, all goes well and we'll have them here in the next week or so.”
“And how long do you think it will be till they're ready to go? The show next month needs to be full, we have a large crowd of high bidders that will be here.”
Machi scratched his fingers up and down my neck, digging in with heavy strides. “Same as always, maybe sooner. My patience for trouble is thin, I'll work them hard.”
“Good, that's good. Last night went well, but it could have been better.”
Machi laughed and I felt him lean to his right. “They can always be better, Drake, always.”
The table erupted in laughter as forks pinged off porcelain and full mouths mumbled inaudible words.
I couldn't understand how those men could sit there and speak about women like they were meant for purchase, like their life was nothing, like women were put on earth to only serve the men who bought them.
It was foul and disgusting, forcing my veins to pulse angrily beneath the surface.
Balling my fists in my lap, I snarled under my breath. I was ready to jump up and scream, I wanted to call them all raging pricks, and make them regret ever taking advantage of another human being.
